dec 13 in idea barrages

A Ted Danson hosted documentary series about astronomy called “Danson, With The Stars”.

The Smurfs theme song but as surf rock. Smurf rock.

A spooky bakery called Kneadful Things.

Ah, the haunting folk songs about the melancholy life of a bar’s mixologist. Ah, the muddler ballad.

“Ferrero Rocher” is just one of those phrases that sounds more wrong the more correctly you say it. Ferrero Rocher. Ferrero Rocher. Like that many Ruh Ruh Ruh sounds in a row sounds more like a misfiring lawn mower than a brand of candies.

Use cookie fortune slips that never came true as bookmarks. Keep old losing lotto tickets around for autographing should you ever yet by accident grow famous. Retain the stubs from picture shows to prove that you never did stop dreaming, even if your paucity of hope meant you had to lease your fantasies from distant hackneyed charlatans. Hold onto proof that you were here, if for nothing else than to remind your own self that it once was so. It’s okay. We all must be reminded that, some days.

You can be forgiven your past bad taste in music. The hoobastink of having hoobastunk does not have to hoobastick to you forever.

We mock those who believe a Facebook copy-paste is legally binding then we use the word “allegedly” as if were a mystic rune of warding. Like “Paul Simon murdered 45 prostitutes via strangulation with his tiny tiny hands, ALLEGEDLY”. The last word doesn’t cancel out all the rest.